


Arthur

by sumisu47



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 20:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumisu47/pseuds/sumisu47
Summary: *Spoiler Alert* (High Honor John Marston ending)Arthur has died and entered hell, where he finds John Marston and the lost secret romance he had in Saint Denis. He is forced to face the barriers within his own mind, along with the barriers of hell to save her and reclaim a life he had dreamed of having since his younger days. The question of what is real and what is in his mind becomes the biggest obstacle as the further down he goes the more confusing, bizarre, and tortuous the experience becomes.





	Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story is getting a rewrite. The basic plot is the same as the original, but it's been cleaned up, rewritten, and enhanced.

Arthur squinted into the sunlight towards a pair of figures coming towards him in suits. He spit at the ground and watched as they came closer.

“Arthur.” A voice behind him said.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

He turned and faced his wife who had a hand on his arm.

“Who are they?” She asked.

“I don’t know.”

They watched as the figures came closer and she handed him his old black hat. He put it on as she picked at his tie and collar. At this point, after being married for nearly twenty years he knew when to object to her picking at his suit. He had worn more nice suits in the last month than he had cared to and was yearning to get back in his old riding clothes and take a long break in the wild. As much as he wanted this wedding to take place, he wanted all the hoopla around it to be over.

“Arthur Morgan?” One man asked as they drew closer.

“Who’s askin’?”

“Pinkerton detectives.”

Arthur looked to his wife and they both exchanged the same glance that read _Dutch_.

“I guess you are here because you cannot find Dutch Van Der Linde?”

“No sir, we are here to tell you he is dead. He named you in a bunch of heists, but seeing as to how you split from him years ago, we figured that for a bunch of horseshit.”

Arthur smiled. Figures Dutch was trying to screw him up until the end.

“Figures he would try and screw you up until the end.” She said.

“Funny darlin’ how you always say what is clearly on my mind.”

She smiled as he then let out a small chuckle.

“We just want to inform you that he is dead, and you no longer need to sleep with a gun underneath your pillow anymore.” He said as he handed Arthur a piece of paper.

Arthur read it and then let out a small laugh, “Oh I will always sleep with a goddamn gun under my pillow. Dutch knew people, and I got a wife and four daughters. One of them is gettin’ married today, would you two like to join us?”

They looked at each other in confusion until Arthur finally said, “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me, where is that sorry son of a bitch buried at?”

“Flip over the paper. Nice to have met you Mr. Morgan.” One said as he shook Arthur’s hand.

Arthur flipped over the paper and laughed out loud.

“Oh now that is too funny.” His wife said.

“Damn straight it is.” Arthur replied. He spit on the paper and threw it to the ground.

“Are you going to go?”

“After the wedding yeah, I’m gonna go and piss on his grave if you are interested!” Arthur said as he approached his daughter and took her arm, the music beginning to start up in the background.

She smiled.

*********

‘Oh I know I am supposed to be dead.’ Arthur said as he opened his eyes.

He looked around him and saw the Great Plains stretching out before him. He felt the grass blowing against him, the beauty of it as it danced precariously around him.

“No you are dead.” A familiar voice said from behind him.

“Renee?” He asked.

“Yes Arthur, it’s me.”

He turned and saw her, beautiful curly red hair bouncing by her ears. Skin still as white as ivory, and she had on the same dress as when he had seen her the last time—that beautiful green one with the ivory sash. She had always loved that dress. Slowly he sat up as she approached and she kneeled down beside him, a rifle at her side.

“John is coming.” She said.

“John is dead?”

“Yes, he died many years after we did though.”

“How is he here then at the same time?”

“Time really doesn’t matter here…” she said as she looked around.

“Where are we?” He asked.

“Purgatory unfortunately.” She replied.

“Purgatory?”

“The catholics thought there was a place for people who were good to go to, but didn’t believe in God. People like us.”

He sent her a confused look and watched her eyes look up to the sky. Purgatory was beautiful for it being Purgatory. Full of enough grass and beauty just like real life had been. Everything still hurt like it had in life, but if the rest of Purgatory was like this he could deal with it.

“Renee you risked a lot coming out here to fetch him.” John said as he approached.

“I know, but I had to see him.”

“Every hellhound in hell is gonna be looking for you.” He said as he kneeled down.

“John.” Arthur said.

John hugged Arthur and they both smiled. Renee couldn’t help but smile at their reunion, Arthur had probably never expected to make it to any kind of afterlife at all, much less one that included John or even her in it. He then turned to Renee and kissed her quickly. She turned her head as he took it in his hands and then pulled her towards him. When he recoiled he smiled at her and she sent him back the same lazy smile she had in bed when he used to visit her. Those mornings when the air smelled like sweat, perfume, his cologne—mornings when the lights trickled on over her breasts and every time he saw her he felt alive. She made him feel alive, the kind of passion and fury he had not had since he had been young and used to sleep with prostitutes at the saloons—wild rampant sex, fueled by a a masculine passion only he understood. She had taken it even deeper, and it was nice to see that it was still there.

“Arthur we have a problem.” John said.

He looked up to John and stood up, pulling Renee with him.

“She isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Yeah I know that John—”

“She is supposed to be in hell.”

“Renee why?”

She put her hand on his chest and looked down, much too ashamed to tell him what had landed her in hell. He took her hand in his until she said,

“When you kill yourself you don’t get to come here or to anywhere nice.” She said.

Arthur was speechless as he continued to hold her hand.

“I killed myself, with your gun, on your grave Arthur.”

Arthur felt a cluster of emotions, sadness being the one that was predominant. Anger was the second one, as had always been the case with him. Anger for so long had clouded his judgement until he had met her and been diagnosed with TB. After that it had been longing, love, melancholy, or sadness. Having a death sentence meant that the world forgot about you, dying of illness meant the world forgot you. Dying the way she had made his heart hurt.

“I’m here because I think I can get us all out of here.” She said.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” John demanded.

“We have to go all the way through hell and come out the other side.” She said.

“That is an old wives tale!”

“No it isn’t!” She retorted.

“What do we have to do?” Arthur asked.

“Arthur don’t even ask—”

“I am askin’ because I loved this woman in secret when Dutch was off doing whatever the hell it was he was doin’! I used to come to Saint Denis long before the rest of you even knew what it was. Remember how I used to wander for two to three weeks at a time?”

“I do, but most of the time we found you hunting.”

“Yeah I hunted, but I also went to see her.” He said as he looked to her.

They were silent for a long moment until Arthur finally said,

“She breathed life back into me when no one else could. She was the reason I helped you John. It wasn’t just the goddamn TB or whatever—that was a part of it—but the courage she gave me to face life that was her. She helped me figure out who I was for the little bit of time I knew.”

Everyone was silent as he held her hand in his tightly.

“I was going to take my share and run away with her, until Guarma happened and then the TB.”

“I had it too.” She said.

“Once I knew I figured you had it.” He said.

“Doesn’t mean we can do the impossible. Other souls have tried this and it hasn’t worked Arthur. The chances of it workin’ now are low.”

Arthur looked to her and then said, “I’m willin’ to give it a shot. You don’t have to come John.”

“Of course I am gonna come Arthur, you saved my life. You gave my family a life, for as long as we had it.”

“Then can we get goin’?” Arthur said.

******

It was hot that day. So damn hot, and this place was so noisy, fresh, and new. Arthur turned his horse down another road towards the saloon, dirt falling down onto her beautiful white coat. He couldn’t get over how nasty this place was—the civilized world—seemed dirtier than nature itself. He lit a cigarette and continued to move forward at a light canter, careful not to go to fast as he maneuvered slowly in between people and carriages. The first thing he wanted was a hot bath, the next thing after that was a warm, soft bed. As he approached the saloon he saw it was much nicer than things he was used to, but with a fat wad of cash in his pocket, he didn’t really care. Slowly he hitched his horse up and walked inside slowly.

The place was jumping with activity, even at 4 o clock in the afternoon. To his right was a poker game full of a bunch of overstuffed and uptight gentlemen. He smiled because he knew he was going to enjoy hustling them later. He didn’t normally notice women in a saloon. Normally they were hookers or easy women looking for a fast roll in the hay. A long time ago when he was young he had slept with a lot of different women, but since Eliza and Mary it had been hard—damn near impossible—to want to do that again. He figured that was probably why he was so irritable.

Tonight was shaping up to be different as he saw a woman sitting on her own at a table, a cigarette in her hand. She didn’t have the holder that most upscale ladies had, so he assumed he was a hooker. She was beautiful regardless, and as he ordered something to eat and drink, he couldn’t help but continue to stare at her. She finally looked over at him.

“You need something cowboy?” She asked.

Arthur smiled and then walked over to her.

“May I sit here?” He asked.

“Nice of you to ask, but no.” she said.

He put his hands on his gun belt and then said, “Why not? You expectin’ somebody?”

“No, but it’s the principle of the thing.” She said.

“What principle are you talkin’ about?” He asked.

She sighed audibly and then said, “You cowboys come in here and think that you can just sit down with the first beautiful woman you see.”

“That’s not what I was implyin’.”

She could see he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, but he was handsome and she was enjoying the banter. Not many men snapped back like he did and persisted.

“What were you implying then?”

“I was implyin’ that I thought I might join you, seein’ as to how I am hungry and would like to eat my dinner with some company. I figured maybe you was hungry too, and I could get you somethin’ as well.”

“So you are trying to be kind?”

“Yes mam I am.”

She kicked the chair back a little bit and motioned for him to sit down across from her.

“So what’s wrong with you?” She asked as Arthur’s food was brought out to him and placed before him.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” She said to the waiter that had dropped off Arthur’s food.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.” He said as he looked back at her.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Well I am tryin’ to be polite and wait until you get your food.”

She smiled and lit another cigarette.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Don’t worry I don’t want to sleep with you.” He said as her food finally appeared and was placed before her.

They ate silently, Arthur peering at her every now and then trying to get a read on her. There was something so strange about her—but it was almost as if it was something strange that he understood. Maybe she was so snippy because she was an uptight southern lady—or maybe she was snippy because she had a deep wound to hide. She looked back over at him, and when she had her fill of the meal she lit another cigarette and he followed suit by lighting a cigar. They looked at one another through the haze of the smoke and she then leaned over the table, her cleavage appearing conveniently at the top of her dress and said,

“Like I said cowboy, what is it that you want?”

“Jesus woman will you give it up already?”

She was silent as he rolled his eyes and then took another long puff off his cigar.

“What?” She asked.

“This tough act. Let’s just have a decent conversation ok?”

She sat up and took a long drag off her cigarette and then smiled. They talked slowly at first, Arthur telling her the information she needed to know—the information he needed to give her. She responded back in the same way, carefully. It was almost as if they were dancing around the truth, and she knew why he was. He was clearly an outlaw. He was wondering why she was, a fine, gentile, Southern lady.

“So Arthur—”

“Yes, Renee.” He replied as he saw the first round of whiskey shots she had ordered appear.

“I think I can outdrink you.”

Arthur let out a loud laugh and slapped his hand on the table.

“Are you always the loudest one in the room?” She asked.

He smiled and then said, “You are on.”

They took shot after shot, until about the tenth round they both were laughing so hard they thought their sides were going to explode and Arthur accidentally put his hand on her’s. They looked at one another for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“You—” he began, “Are a detestable woman.”

She laughed and then said, “You are a filthy, cowboy.”

Arthur laughed so hard he fell back in his chair. Renee fell out of her seat and went under the table and yanked on his leg trying to pull him up.

“What are you doin’ woman?” He asked in between laughs.

“I’m trying to pull you up, Arthur.” She replied, her words slurring horribly.

Arthur grabbed her arms and she fell on top of him and they both stared at one another for a long moment until she turned her head and threw up on the floor beside him. Arthur immediately began laughing and then said,

“I beat you! Haha I beat you!”

He then threw up as well as she laughed and wiped her mouth on the tablecloth. The bartender looked down at them, and then said,

“I think it’s probably time for both of y’all to leave or get a room.”

“I got a room.” Arthur said as he slowly stood up and pulled Renee up with him.

“Go to it then.”

“Sure.” Arthur said as he stumbled with her up the stairs and hit the wall hard. The bartender shook his head as he got out his mop. Arthur couldn’t stop laughing as he crawled up the stairs, Renee not far behind him. When he reached the top he pulled her up and then threw her over his shoulder. She pretended to beat on him as he opened the door and threw her onto the bed.

“Now get some sleep.” He said as he moved over to the couch.

She looked at him, confusion spelled across her face. She wanted nothing more than to sleep with this man. In her mind, he was the best thing that had walked in that saloon in a long time. So many nights she had sat there, lonely, and when he stared at her and sass talked him—she definitely wanted more.

“Come over here.” She said.

“No.” He said as he laid on the couch and put his hat over his eyes.

“All that foreplay and you won’t sleep with me?” She cried.

“Oh for God sake.” He muttered.

“I haven’t had sex in almost five years!” She said.

“Neither have I!” He yelled back.

“All the more reason to have sex!” She bellowed.

Arthur sat up and then said, “Darlin’ you literally threw up on the floor down there. Get a glass of water and some sleep. I will take you for somethin’ greasy in the morning. I feel like shit, you are going to feel like shit—”

He stopped when he saw she had passed out on the bed. He sighed and walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed and drew the covers up around her. She immediately latched onto his waist.

“Don’t leave.” She whispered.

There was something about how she had asked that got him to stay that night, and as he stretched out on the bed fully clothed, he thought to himself how much he had wanted to sleep with her—but principles.


End file.
